


A Seasonal Love

by Cassianpeia



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Bookshop, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-08 01:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16420061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassianpeia/pseuds/Cassianpeia
Summary: Elain walks into a bookshop one day, on a mission to find particular books for Feyre, only to run into the most beautiful man she’s ever seen.





	A Seasonal Love

**_Winter_ **

The bookshop seems a lot smaller on the outside than it does on the inside; though it isn't incredibly wide, it seems to spread on for miles length wise. _Velaris Tomes_ hasn't been around for long, but Feyre is already in love with the place. And apparently the employees are helpful and welcoming too - at least, that's what Feyre told Elain when she handed her a list of books (not too long, thank God) and a wad of cash to pay for them. Elain knows the owner plays a large part in Feyre's love for the place. Rhysand, she thinks he's called - if the name that constantly flashes on Feyre's phone is right. 

As Elain steps into the shop, a bell chimes lightly. There isn't anyone at the til, and Elain doesn't particularly want to ring the bell for assistance, so she takes a deep breath and steps into the maze of books at her disposal. Her hand dives into the pocket of her jacket as she loosens the scarf around her neck - it's much warmer in the shop than outside - to pull out the neatly folded list. She cans the list for a moment, nibbling her lip in concentration. The books are mostly fantasy, but there's a couple of books on art technique, and even one on constellations. 

Elain's eyebrows furrow. She doesn't know when exactly Feyre became interested in constellations and stars. It's probably just another art thing.  
She sighs softly as she comes to a stop at the beginning of the fantasy section. Quite frankly, it's massive. It's a relief that it's alphabetised, but Elain still has a strong feeling that she's going to be here for quite a while. Just as she reaches out to take a closer look at one of the books, a soft cough comes from the left of her, and she pulls her hand away immediately, clutching the note to her chest and racing heart. 

"Sorry, I just wondered if you wanted any help." Elain turns to face the owner of the comforting voice, but any and all words are swiftly stolen from her lips in a matter of seconds. He is quite possibly the most beautiful man she has ever seen. His hair is mostly styled away from his face, but still a few locks hang over his forehead and in front of his eyes - it's endearing, his hair's refusal to be perfect. She almost wonders what it would look like completely free. His hazel eyes are soft, comforting - just like his voice - a complete juxtaposition to the sharp structure of his cheeks and jaw, and the corded muscle she _knows_ is under that shirt of his-

Another cough, and Elain flushes bright red. He doesn't comment, but the corner of his lips quirk up and she can't help but smile in return. It's compelling. 

"Sorry, lost in thought." She excuses, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear nervously. "I'm just looking for this one - about a Princess that can wield fire or something. I'm sorry, these aren't for me, so I'm practically clueless." Elain explains and shows him the list. His fingers brush hers as he takes the small square of paper, callouses and scars rubbing against her fairly unmarked ones - save for a few little nicks here and there where rose thorns have caught her finger tips. 

She watches him study the list, watches as his thumb rises to run across his bottom lip in thought. It leads her to think about his lips. Elain looks back to the bookshelf immediately. She's only just met the man, for God's sake, she can't be thinking like that. 

"We should have this in stock. Do you need any help looking for the others?" 

Her immediate reaction is to say yes, but then it doesn't give her another excuse to return to the store and - call her a hopeless romantic - but she wants to see this man again, whoever he is. 

"Just one of the art books and the constellation one, too, please. I don't have enough money on me to pay from them all." 

She definitely has enough money. It burns a hole in her purse in response to the lie. As if he can tell that she’s lying, he bites the inside of his cheek - like he’s trying to stop a smile or a snarky comment. 

“Come back whenever and I can help. If you see anyone else at the desk, just ask for Azriel.” 

_Azriel._ Isn’t that the name of an angel? Or at the very least, similar. She can’t help but hold out her hand, ready to shake his.

“Elain. Thank you for your help. I’m sure I’ll be back soon.”

He shakes her hand, his hold firm but gentle, and she doesn’t miss the way his calloused fingers linger, scratching over the healer cuts from rose thorns on her own, or the way his lips move, subtly, as if repeating her name. 

**_Spring_ **

“It’s a bit much, don’t you think?” 

Elain rolls her eyes and places her hands on her hips as she analyses the display she’s set up. Flower baskets hang on either side of the door to the bookstore, while plots of flowers rest on the windowsill. The colour scheme is a pretty combination of yellow and orange - and overall Elain is very proud with the outcome. Which is why Azriel’s comment rubs her up the wrong way. Just a little.

“Says the bookshop employee to the _florist._ ” If there’s a bite to her tone, Azriel doesn’t pay attention. Instead, he simply laughs. Elain huffs but smiles anyway. His happiness is infectious, and always has been. “It’s not the minimalism of succulents, but it’s bright and happy and should draw more people in.” Not that they were having trouble with customers. Elain had heard plenty of people commenting on the lovely bookshop and the even lovelier employees. 

Already, children and adults alike were beginning to point at the new pretty flowers, eyes immediately moving to the shop’s sign afterwards - just so that they could remember what it’s called. Elain smirks triumphantly, something she’s picked up from Azriel in the few months that she’s known him. 

There’s a slight jab to her ribs, in a spot that he knows is especially tender, and Elain swats his hand away with a soft giggle. 

“There’s no need to look so smug.” Az comments, shoving one of his hands into his pockets while the other combs through his hair - hair that he stopped styling once Elain pointed out she quite liked it when it hung into his face more, framing his cheekbones. He’d just laughed it off, but stopped using any styling product all the same. “Actually, I was wondering if-” The door chimes, announcing the exit of a customer. Except she realises it isn’t another customer when a heavy arm rests comfortably on her shoulders and tugs her to their chest. Azriel takes a slight step backwards, arms crossed and looking back at the display.

Elain pushes the arm gently off her shoulders, but smiles up at Cassian anyway. He’s looking at the display with something very close to pride shining in his eyes. Warmth blooms in Elain’s chest. 

“You’ve done an incredible job, Elain.” He looks down at her, expression suddenly becoming serious - his strategy face, the same one he wears when they play video games or chess. “Now, I was wondering if I could ask you a question about Nes.” 

She doesn’t really hear the first part of his question, too busy watching Azriel walk back into the shop with a slight scowl on his face and a bow in his posture, and has to ask Cassian to repeat whatever he just said. 

**Summer**

It’s hot. So, so hot. There’s a fan plugged in in the corner of the shop, but it doesn’t quite reach Elain where she sits on a stool behind the desk. Azriel stands next to her, pretty much blocking any breeze that might slip past the open door - though there’s a small chance of any breeze passing by at all. She’s using some lace fan an aunt gave her as a birthday present a couple of years ago, and her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun. It’s not even stylishly messy. She cringes every time she catches her reflection in one of the windows. 

“There’s no hope this will let up, is there?” Elain complains, cringing again at the whiny tone of her voice. She sets the lace fan down with a huff and watches in horror as someone in a jumper peruses the sciences shelves. Azriel’s soft laugh steals her attention. 

“No, there isn’t.” The heat doesn’t even seem to be bothering him all that much. If it wasn’t for the single bead of sweat on the back of his neck or the -quite frankly beautiful - flush on his cheeks, Elain wouldn’t have even thought he was hot at all. “There’s cold water out back, if you want some, or a kid selling cold lemonade on the street.” 

Lemonade does sound incredibly good right about now. Elain removes her eyes from the flush on Azriel’s cheeks and the flutter of his dark eyelashes as he looks down at the cash he’s sorting through, and instead looks towards the street of shops outside. There is a small boy selling Lemonade; his gap tooth smile is adorable, and if she listens closely enough she can hear his marketing skill which is beyond his years. Then her gaze flits to a couple, holding hands and eating ice cream. One of the guys’ ice cream drips onto his white shoe, leaving the other in stitches.  
It makes Elain’s heart ache. She went through a stage of craving love and attention, even going as far as to become engaged to a man who was toxic. It changed her life perspective. She doesn’t actively seek out romance, but seeing the couple, plus being sat in close proximity to Azriel who she has most definitely taken more than a platonic interest in, has made her realise how much she misses that sort of company. 

It doesn’t help that Feyre and Rhys are completely in love. 

Quietly, Elain begins to study Azriel again - and it does always feel like a study. He’s quite subtle in everything he does. There’s a slight furrow of his brow as he concentrates on moving the money around in the till, his fingers moving swiftly, almost delicately. Scarred hands that she’s come to love. He hid them from her at first, as much as possible, but she didn’t hesitate to tell him that she found them beautiful. Every scar tells a story, and Elain has always been fond of stories. But it’s never been just about his appearance - even if she does find herself watching his lips more than she should. 

She loves the way he’s always listening, even when she’s complaining about the most mundane things - and he seems to read her perfectly; he knows when she isn’t in the mood for talking, or knows when she needs cheering up, and especially knows when she’s excited about something. Apparently she lights up. No one has ever told her that before - she loves it. It’s also in the way he’s incredibly competitive with Cassian, and how he deals with rude customers even though she can see his false smile twitching. 

She... doesn’t love him, though. Not yet. But it feels close sometimes. 

Then his eyes flit to hers, one eyebrow raised and his lips quirking, and she knows she’s been caught staring. 

“We could grab ice cream, when you close up.” Elain offers quickly, the first thoughts on her mind slipping from her lips. There’s heat rising up her neck that definitely isn’t from the hot weather, and she finds herself refusing the urge to grip the floral skirt of the dress she’s wearing. “You close early today, right? And, well, ice cream will cool you down.” 

Azriel grins as he shuts the till, the loud clang of metal making her jump. “Sure, I’ll go let Cassian know and the three of us can grab it from the place just up the road.” 

When he walks through into the back room, Elain resists the urge to smack her head against the desk. It really wasn’t what she meant. Was it too much to ask just to have some alone time with Azriel, outside of the shop?

**_Autumn_**

It’s the first time she meets Mor. 

She’s heard about her before, from Freye, but has never actually met her. 

Elain is stunned, to say the least. Not just because the woman is incredibly beautiful, with her golden hair and perfect skin and a body Elain knows she probably doesn’t even have to work out for. Elain can’t help but compare herself to Mor. Tries to stop it, because comparing yourself to others is never healthy. But she can’t. Her hair is duller and her body isn’t as voluptuous and her laugh certainly isn’t that musical. 

She’s also stunned because she’s never seen Az look so animated. 

She looks down at the coffees in her hand - one for her and one for Az - and spots the coffee that Mor has bought him. From the exact place, and probably the exact same drink. It’s stupid, but Elain feels disappointment and something akin to jealousy well up in her chest. A moment after the bell chimes, announcing her entrance, Mor looks up, smiles, and whispers something to Azriel. It’s only then that Az meets her gaze, and quickly glances at the coffee cups in her hands. 

“Elain.” He sits up straighter, and Elain feels like she’s intruding. Her grip tightened on the coffee cups. “This is-” 

“Mor.” Elain interrupts. And then immediately curses herself for doing so. She’s meant to have manners, for God’s sake. “Rhys’ cousin, right? Feyre’s mentioned you a few times. She didn’t do you justice.” She smiles, and means it - even if it’s a bit stiff. “Sorry, I’d shake your hand but...” Her hands lift up the cups slightly and Mor smiles in return, waving off the issue. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to finally meet you too.” She’s sat on the same stool Elain usually sits on. It shouldn’t, but it feels like another blow to her gut. “The displays you’ve set up in the past year are beautiful. The guys said you were good, but I didn’t realise you were so talented.” 

Elain smiles and shrugs her shoulders. “I just like flowers and gardening.” There’s a moment of silence, and Az seems to be watching the whole conversation with keen interest, and possibly a little nervousness if the way his fingers tap the desk are anything to do by. “You know what? I think I’m gonna go. I’ve got a ton of orders to get through anyway. It was nice meeting you Mor.” Elain smiles one last time before pretty much dashing out of the door. 

The cobble stone street is a little slick due to the morning’s rain, but a Elain doesn’t stop the speed she’s walking at. As soon as she sees a bin she dumps the cups of coffee and shoves her fingers into her jacket pockets in frustration. There’s no need for her to be so angry or jealous at seeing Mor. There has always been the possibility that Az is seeing or interested in someone, considering he’d never shown any interest in her. And Mor is lovely, Elain can tell from just that one conversation. 

“Elain!” 

It’s stupid, but she ignores it and instead continues to listen to the insistent voice in her head. The one that tells her she’s nothing but a silly, little, jealous girl. The one that wonders why Az would have even been interested in the first place. A hand latches onto her arm and from the gentle grip alone she knows who it is. 

“Elain, stop. What’s wrong?” Elain turns to Az and guiltily bites the inside of her cheek. He’s breathing heavily, his are flushed and he hasn’t even bothered to put on a coat. He obviously left the shop in a rush. “Why didn’t you stay? I told Mor you were coming in this morning and she was excited to meet you.” 

“Az, I felt like I was interrupting, that’s all. And I do have orders to get through. If I can get ahead now then I can take more on and-” Elain pauses, narrowing her eyes at the look on Azriel’s face. It’s disbelief. “What? Why are you looking at me like that.” 

“You know I can read you like an open book.” 

It’s the way his hand takes hers, bringing her comfort, that opens the floodgates. She still pulls away. 

“I like you, okay? I like you very very much. More than platonically. Ice cream, in the summer? I meant us two, not Cassian - even if it did end up being fun. And it is so obvious now, why it didn’t occur to you that I wanted to go on a date with you, because you’re interested in Mor.” She’s breathless, and Az moves to interrupt, but she doesn’t let him. “Don’t. You haven’t done anything wrong. You haven’t led me on. You’ve just been you, Azriel, brilliant, perfect you.” 

“I’m not interested in Mor.” 

“Az, you come alive around her.” Elain mutters, running a hand through her wind-knotted hair. “I should go. Really.” But Az grabs her hand before she can move anywhere. 

“Elain Archeron, I am interested in _you._ Mor was excited to meet you because I can’t stop talking about _you._ You have no idea, do you? How often I think about you. Constantly. All the time.” He’s running a hand through his hair and his eyes haven’t left hers and Elain’s heart has stopped. “I want to listen to you, all of the time, when you’re happy and excited, when you’re sad and low. You can’t sing for shit but it’s still one of the nicest sounds I have ever heard. And nothing trumps your laugh, nothing. I-” 

The world stops when Elain rises to her toes and presses her lips to his. She pulls back almost as quickly. 

“Sorry. I know I should have asked but I didn’t know what else to do. You were rambling... you don’t usually ramble.” 

It’s the dazed look on his face, the way he lifts a finger to touch his lips that has her taking a step towards him. 

“Again.” Az whispers one hand comes to rest on her waist and the other brushes a lock of hair away from her eyes. “Kiss me again.” 

So she does. It’s soft and warm despite the chill in the air, and Elain becomes lost. And she never, ever wants to be found. 

Then Az suddenly pulls away, batting her hand away from where it rested on the bare skin of his neck. “Jesus Elain, your hands are freezing.” She snorts in return, pressing her head into his chest as she begins to laugh. Tears stream down her face, and she can’t help but think this is the happiest she has been in a long while. 

**_Winter_ **

Elain looks at the blue tinsel in her hand before glancing at the wall with a small frown. She then shrugs. There’s nothing like garish Christmas decorations to make a place feel all warm and cozy. As she staples in the last section of tinsel, the ladder wobbles, and Elain finds herself plummeting to the ground. 

Luckily, Az was standing watch - just in case something like this happened. He catches her easily and tucks her into his chest, though his eyes don’t leave the tinsel along the upper wall. 

“Not too much, is it?” 

When his eyes meet hers, full of fondness and light, Elain can’t help but grin in return. 

“Of course not. It looks fantastic.” 

And then he kisses her, and it feels just like the first time, over and over again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I loved this one so much! And due to the length, I kept it separate to the rest of the one shots.


End file.
